A Little Faith
by Elesteria
Summary: Leaving him with a newborn, doesn't seem like an ideal option to Malik, but Altaïr has to disagree with him on that thought.


_A/N:_ Huh, well writing this was a bit of a surprise. I'm still working on getting back into the groove of writing, as I'm still rusty from how I'm used to writing or how my words come out, but I'm getting there. As for this? I really have no idea. If I recall correctly, this happened after a few too many shots of espresso and eight hours spent in a coffee shop with a friend, where we discussed the assassin's children at length. Hm, practice makes perfect, or better, at least, hopefully.

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**A Little Faith**

Malik wasn't sure how he ended up holding the chortling newborn, he thought that it may have had something to do with the midwives rushing to get back to their mistress. It was a rush in which they had not realized that he was not the most capable person for the duty that they had tasked him. There were much more capable people, but as Malik looked around the hall, there were none to be found.

He pursed his lips, more for the fact that he had been so trapped amongst his own thoughts that he had failed to notice anyone leave the hall. He could normally keep excellent track of the people moving around in his surroundings, but this time he had not. He looked down at the babe in his arm and let his frown melt away on a sigh.

There was nothing to be done for it, but to find an appropriate spot to sit and wait. He settled back against the wall, sliding down to sit crossed legged on the ground. The child cooed up at him, a surprising change from the wails one normally heard from newborns.

It set an ache in his chest, one that was not to be ignored, no matter how much he wished. He hadn't held a child since his youth, since he had held Kadar. It was uncomfortable, remembering back to a time when everything seemed perfect, when he had been whole.

He was always struck by the memories, by the longing when he least expected them. He had for a time wondered if he would ever be able to look back fondly and not miss everything that he had lost, but he had long since given up on that thought. He would always miss what he had lost. The pain would fade in the years, leaving only a dull ache, as it did now, but it would never go away completely.

He was struck by the fact that he couldn't do anything but wait, wait for someone to come and take the child from him. He was lacking in what it would take to care of the child until he was relieved of it. He had nothing to offer like he had for Kadar, not a hand to pull the cloth tighter around the babe, or even soothe it if he started to cry. He curled his fingers into the wrap holding the child, making sure there was no chance of slipping. "You have ended up with an unfortunate uncle."

"I wouldn't agree with such a statement," Malik didn't look up, not sure how to react to such words. He frowned down at the child in his arm, ignoring the fact that Altaïr was now crouching down beside him, his robes pooling against the floor. He reached out a hand, fingers tracing over his child's cheek with a lingering gentleness that Malik once would have believed Altaïr incapable of.

"How is Maria?" Malik asked, choosing not to respond to Altaïr's words. He knew that the only reason he had been left with the child in the first place was that the midwives had needed all hands for Maria. It meant that something had gone wrong or at least, they feared that something had. He hoped that nothing had befallen the woman, that the midwives rushing about were only doing so as a precaution.

"Mmm, she is well, exhausted, but well." Altaïr answered, hand curling in the blanket at the child's shoulder. He didn't make a move to take his child from Malik's hold, which was surprising in itself, enough so that Malik turned to finally look over at Altaïr. There was a small smile on his face, not his usual smirk, but something softer. His other arm was resting on his knee, a clear sign that he had no intentions of taking his child from Malik's grip.

"His name is Darim," Altaïr continued, not giving a chance to allow Malik to admit how relieved the news of Maria being fine made him. He pushed on and Malik knew that Maria was truly well. Everything was fine.

Malik looked back down at Darim, unable to take the unfamiliar softness on Altaïr's face. He didn't say a word, not knowing just what he was expected to say. Biting words and heated arguments were not what the situation asked for and it left Malik floundering. It was an odd precipice that they were on, a moment of change.

"You will make an excellent uncle, brother. There is no other that I would wish to have around as he grows up." Altaïr admitted, relaxed and truthful with the words he was speaking. They'd come so far and the child was a sign of what they had gained amongst all that they had lost.

"We will see," Malik gave a slight shake of his head. He was unsure of what help he would be in raising the child, as Altaïr had asked him the moment Maria's pregnancy had become apparent.

"You have more knowledge about children then I do, Malik. You will be more help than you expect yourself to be. I am uncertain of my own job as father, but I have faith in everyone." Altaïr stated, words that pulled a noise of amusement from Malik.

"How long have you been working on such words? They do not sound like words the son of none would speak." Malik let his eyes flicker back to Altaïr, his lips quirking slightly upwards. He could see Altaïr's own smile turning into a familiar smirk, pleased with himself for bringing them back to common ground.

"Much longer than it would have taken you," he replied lowly. He lifted his hand from his knee, bringing it up to the back of Malik's neck and pulling him close, so as that Altaïr could rest his forehead against Malik's temple. His fingers, so roughened by the fine edges of blades, were careful against his child's cheek and the skin of Malik's neck. He blew out a breath, hot against Malik's own cheek.

"I do, have faith that is." Altaïr finished and Malik found himself nodding to the words. He would take Altaïr's faith, new as it was. It was all they had to work with, but it would do.

_Fin_


End file.
